Shots in the Shadows v2
by sharpiewashere
Summary: Originally posted back in 2012. Needed a desperate rewrite. Here is the beginning of the new version. After the events of the Demon House, Zak and Aaron find themselves in need of a reset. With the ongoing trend of losing crew members, they find themselves on the road to trouble. However, after Zak has a dream about an old friend, everything changes.
1. What Happened to the Old Days?

Aaron opened his SUV door to warm, dry wind and the faint sounds of wind chimes. He stepped down onto the concrete driveway, stuffing his keys into the pocket of his shorts with his cell phone. He reached over the console, grabbed the strap of a messenger bag, containing this month's PO box mail. He pulled his travel mug from the cupholder, then closed his door and locked it.  
Outside, the sun was beginning to set against the trees, and Aaron, being a creature of the night, was just beginning his day. He had spent the late afternoon working on orders for his clothing line, "Big Steppin," and after picking up a bite to eat, he stopped by the PO box to retrieve some fan mail. His plan was to drop them off at his best friend's house. He thought, if nothing else, it would put a smile on his face. It would be the first Aaron had seen Zak Bagans smile in weeks.  
The past two years had been rough on the Ghost Adventures crew. Although the show had grown dramatically in popularity, things had also spiraled out of control. Zak's purchase and investigation of a demon infested house in Gary, Indiana brought everything to a head. They had lost crew members, including lost long time investigator and friend, Nick Groff. Of course, Zak promoted other crew members to fill in, but things still felt out of balance.  
On top of being shorthanded, Zak's stay in the Demon House had affected him so negatively, he developed diplopia, an eye condition that causes permanent double-vision. He had recently attempted to have his condition corrected through surgery, but with the threat of blindness, the hope of regaining his vision was gone. Ever since, he had become increasingly quiet and distant from his friends, and Aaron was determined to bring his friend out of his current depression.  
Aaron padded up to Zak's front door and reached for the door handle. Inside, he could hear the television blaring and Gracie barking. He pushed the heavy iron and glass door open.

"Hey, G," Aaron called over the noise, his voice echoing off of the rock walls and concrete floor.

He shuffled inside to a large room, decorated in ornate wooden furniture. The rock fireplace held a large flatscreen TV, on which was showing a random set of commercials. Aaron looked around as he set his bag down on a console table. The room was seemingly empty, with only Gracie sniffing at his leg.

"Za-"

Before he could finish, an arm shot up from the couch.

"Hey," came Zak's weak voice.

Aaron nodded to himself and walked around the couch. He was no less than shocked when he saw Zak.  
The man was a shell, laying on the couch with his legs under a blanket, his cell phone on his chest, and his glasses rested crooked on his nose. He did not make eye contact with Aaron for a brief moment. Aaron shuddered.

"Jesus, bro!" he breathed out, "Are you sick?"

Zak looked up at his friend from the television and quickly snapped out of it.

"Nah, man. I'm good. Just chilling," he replied.

Zak kicked his blanket over and sat up, readjusting his glasses and reaching for his hat on the coffee table. He covered his limp hair, then stood up and hugged Aaron.

"It's good to see you, bro," he said.

Aaron smiled at that and happily welcomed the hug.

"Yeah, man. You, too. It's been a minute," he said with a laugh.

Zak gave him a small smile and led Aaron to the kitchen.

"I know," Zak agreed, "You want something to drink?"

Aaron grabbed his bag from the table and followed in step behind Zak.

"Yeah, sure. Water's fine," he replied.

Zak opened the stainless steel refrigerator and grabbed two bottles of water, tossing one to his friend. Aaron caught it and cracked it open.

"Still hot out there, G?" Zak asked.

Aaron swallowed and shook his head.

"Nah. It's nice out now," he replied.

Zak nodded and walked up to the center island.

"What's in the bag?" he asked curiously.

Aaron grinned and reached into the bag, producing dozens of letters.

"Mail time!" he said happily, "The post office was begging me to come pick these up. Besides, I thought you could use something to cheer you up."

Zak blinked tiredly, but Aaron inwardly rejoiced when a small smile crossed the investigator's lips.

"You know you haven't been yourself lately," Aaron said softly.

Zak's eyes flickered up to meet Aaron's. He shuffled his feet against the concrete floor.

"Yeah, I know," he replied in defeat.

Aaron stared at the granite countertop, thinking carefully about how to word his next question.

"Is there something wrong, dude?" he asked worriedly.

Zak crossed his arms over his arms, his eyes also trained on the gray speckles in the granite.

"You still feeling side effects from the house?" Aaron pressed.

Zak shook his head.

"No, it's not from the house," he replied.

Aaron nodded, relieved.

"Is it because of your eyes?" he asked.

Zak shook his head briskly.

"No! No, I've come to peace with that," he replied.

Aaron studied Zak. Zak dropped his arms and gripped the edge of the island.

"I'm serious, Aaron. I'm good with that. I still have my eyesight and for that I'm grateful," he continued.

Aaron nodded, satisfied with Zak's response. Zak sighed and reached into his pocket for his cell phone. He unlocked it and opened an email. He said nothing as he handed it to Aaron. Aaron took the device from his hand and turned it around to read it. At first, he was confused. However, after thoroughly reading the text, his shoulders dropped.

"Damn!" he groaned.

Zak slowly nodded, clenching his jaw. Aaron set Zak's phone down.

"Another?" he asked

Zak slowly nodded.

"Another crew member," he replied, "Ever since I bought that damn house, we've been losing crew members left and right. And half of them haven't even been affected!"

"They were just too scared to stay," Aaron agreed, eyes wide.

Zak nodded.

"Exactly," he said, then groaned, "It's my fault."

Aaron shrugged.

"Well, we'll find new people," he said.

With the popularity the show had accumulated, he was not worried about it. Sure, it slowed production, but he seldom noticed a change. However, he was also not in Zak's shoes. He did not have to deal with the network so much.

"Aaron, this is the most people we've lost at once to date!" Zak exclaimed, "If we keep on like this, they're going to find a way to stop us from filming until they get more people hired."

Aaron sighed.

"We don't know that for sure, though," he said, trying his best to bring optimism to the room.

Zak swallowed and nodded.

"We need to hire people that can handle this stuff better," Zak said, slowly making his way to Aaron's side, "Maybe building a strong foundation here will somehow filter out to production."

Aaron smiled. Zak's serious resolve broke and he smiled as he reached for Aaron's bag.

"What'd ya bring me, G?" he asked.

Aaron grinned.

"I knew this would cheer you up!"

Zak and Aaron spent the following two hours reading letters and giggling at some silly collages and gifts their fans had sent them. Aaron was simply happy to see his best friend raise his head from the dark pool of depression he seemed to have been drowning in for the past few weeks.  
The two paranormal investigators later found themselves on the couch, a cooking show playing on low volume in the background while they made silly Snapchat videos. Zak was looking into his phone's camera, laughing loudly at a face Aaron was making in the background. It felt good to laugh again, as if the rush was washing away the darkness, if only for a little bit. It reminded him of the vlogs they used to make in the earlier seasons of Ghost Adventures. It was a simpler time, and his crew he had then had been all in. His current crew was still there for the long haul, but after losing two main members and only having a backup cameraman part-time, the dreaded search of hiring new members was staring him in the face.

"If only we could find someone who could handle this shit," Zak spoke up.

Aaron stared at his friend, lost. It took him a moment before he realized what Zak was talking about. The subject of the crew had not come up in hours.

"Like, veteran paranormal investigators?" Aaron asked.

Zak shrugged.

"Maybe," he replied distantly, "Just someone with some balls."

Aaron sighed.

"You know, as much as I wouldn't trade what we have now for the world," he began.

Zak looked over to his best friend, peeling his eyes from the television. Aaron looked up at him and gave him a sad smile.

"I sometimes miss the old days," he finished.

Zak gave him a small smile.

"Yeah, me, too," he replied quietly.

Zak settled deeper into the couch, eyes glued back on the television, but his mind a million miles away. He began to wonder where everything changed, and how he could somehow bring that fresh excitement back to himself and his crew.


	2. Omens

Zak went to bed shortly after Aaron left that night, falling asleep just a little after midnight. For the first time in weeks, he actually felt tired enough to lay his head down on his pillows and obtain a decent night's sleep. His time spent with his best friend lifted his spirits, and laughter filled his living room for the first time in what seemed like forever. Their few hours spent together pumped the home full of positive energy. Zak knew that his home's atmosphere was part of his problem, but he had not felt motivated enough to do anything about it. Now that his darkness was lifted and his stomach hurt from laughing, he wondered why he had not done anything about it sooner.  
The happiness soon faded as Zak slept. He was no stranger to nightmares. In his line of work, terrors of his subconscious were part of the job. They were so frequent, it did not think twice about them when he woke up. However, tonight's feature was slightly different. There were no ghosts, demons, or other frightening creatures. No blood or guts, teeth being pulled, or eyes being gouged out. No, tonight's nightmare was something far more sinister, and all too real. Dreams of omens spooked him the most.  
Zak could feel the dream was different as soon as it began. He felt like he was watching a video, rather than actually being there. He saw the sky, which was a dark blue-green, and mountains in the distance. Suddenly, he was sucked into the dream. The sky went dark, and he was surrounded in fire. Scared, he backed up and fell backwards. As he fell into the flames, he screamed in anticipation for being burned. However, when he fell, the flames retracted, as if he repelled them. Curious, he reached for a flame. Smoke wisps arose from his fingertips, and the flame shrank. Discovering that he was not going to be burned, he rolled onto his knees and stood to his feet, as he did, the fire disappeared.  
He looked up to see a vacant two-lane highway. The sky had returned to blue. The land around him was familiar desert. He dusted his knees off and looked around. The sun appeared from behind a cloud, and a crow cawed at him. The bird was so loud, he jumped, clutching his chest. A black crow swooped over his head and landed on a street sign. When he read the sign, his heart stopped. On the sign read "Flagstaff, Arizona." A feeling of doom settled over Zak. He recognized the crow as a common omen of his. Though commonly thought of as an omen of death, in Zak's experience, it meant something bad was going to happen. He was not sure how to decipher the fire, or why he repelled it, but seeing the crow land on the sign, he knew exactly what that meant.  
Zak woke up with a loud gasp. He sat straight up in bed, sweat drenching his brow. His dog, Gracie, who had been sleeping in her bed nearby, jumped awake at the sound of her master's voice. Zak coughed a little and took a deep breath. When he registered that he was indeed awake, and digested what he had dreamed, he jumped into action. He ripped his cell phone off of its charger on the end table, then unlocked it. The screen read 2:01 A.M. Though he was used to being up at this hour from years of lockdowns with his show, no normal person would be up at this hour. However, Zak was determined to make contact, regardless of what time it was.  
He scrolled down through his contacts list to the very bottom, where a name he had not seen show up on his screen in years, sat below fellow Ghost Adventures crew member, Billy Tolley's, phone number. He took a deep breath and clicked on the name. This was an ungodly hour for a phone call, much less a Facetime call, but he could not help it. He had a bad feeling that something was wrong. Perhaps it was his highly sensitive intuition, and maybe his dream had spooked him. Either way, he was calling her.  
On the screen, Zak clicked on the name "Mikey Wilde," and the phone began to ring. Michael Wilde, or Mikey, as the crew called her, had been the crew's still photographer for seasons three and four of the show. She had shown an aptitude for paranormal communication, and an incredible ability for processing and handling interactions with darker spirits. Zak and his guys had never seen anything like it. In his experience, women always had a hard time with spiritual interaction. The darker forces seemed to go after the most vulnerable, which were usually women, the elderly, and young adults and children. Michael had an extraordinary natural block against these forces, and it made her a great addition on lockdowns. Zak had wanted her to be their fourth investigator by season four, but things quickly went down the toilet at the end of the season. He had not seen her since.  
On screen, the ringing ended, and the call connected.

***

I had never been one to sleepwalk. In fact, as a kid, I never believed in it. However, this sleep condition became more and more of a recurring issue as I grew older. Most of it was relatively benign. Getting halfway dressed. Eating something and leaving crumbs or wrappers in the bed. However, tonight was different. I wasn't sure if you could call if sleepwalking, because I have no idea if what I saw was real.  
I awoke to the sound of rustling and murmurs. I live in an apartment by myself. No roommates, no pets, and possibly the quietest neighbors anyone could ever ask for. So, when I woke up to three masked figures in my room, I hit the floor running. I screamed when I first laid eyes on them. My initial thought was that some guys had broken in and were going to murder me. I had no beef with anyone. No connections with anyone to speak of, really. So, when I opened my eyes to intruders, I was on the brink of a heart attack.  
I jumped out of bed and my world whirled around me. I tried to stumble into the hallway, but my vision went black, and when I finally regained my eyesight, I was tangled in my blankets on the floor of my bedroom. Certain I was awake, I jumped to my feet and quickly turned on the lamp on my bedside table. The room was illuminated by soft, warm light. No men to speak of.  
I grabbed my cell phone from its spot on the table, then darted out of my room. Cautious, I made my way down the hall and into the living room. The room was dark, with the exception of a nightlight in the kitchen and the blue street light coming in through the blinds. I reached for the lights on a nearby wall and flicked them on.

"Hello?" I asked.

There was no response. I crept into the kitchen and as quietly as I could, removed a butcher knife from a drawer. I lifted my cell phone, selected my mom's phone number from my contacts, and called her. It took a few tries to reach her, as it was nearly 2:00 AM.

"Hello?" my mom answered groggily.

"Hey," I said lowly, sinking behind the counter, "I don't know what's going on. I might have been dreaming. I could've sworn I saw three guys in my room."

My mom spluttered, now very much awake.

"Did you call the cops?" she exclaimed.

"No! Like I said. I thought I was dreaming," I replied.

"Michael, you make sure before you do anything! Now, I'm serious," she ordered.

I moved from behind the counter to the front door. I reached for the knob and turned it. The door was locked, as I had locked it before I went to take a shower. The deadbolt was still closed, and the chain was still up.

"I am, Mom!" I replied, frustrated, "The door is still locked. Let me check the windows."

She huffed. I moved to the windows in the living room, as well as the bathroom and the bedroom. They were all locked, and there were no intruders to speak of.

"Did you check the closet?" my mom asked.

Knife at the ready, I peaked into my closet. I pulled the chain, turning the light on. Inside was so cluttered, even a rat couldn't fit. I moved my clothing and luggage around anyway. All clear.

"I'm pretty sure now I was dreaming," I said.

My mom sighed in relief. As she did, I heard a noise from the living room that made me jump.

"What?" my mom screamed.

I said nothing as I peered out of my room and into the hallway. Outside, I saw a pile of mail that had been sitting on the end table scattered on the carpet. I let out a deep breath.

"It was just some mail. I must have bumped the table," I replied.

My mom growled.

"I don't like this. You double-check and make sure," she said.

I walked out of the bedroom and into the living room.

"Mom, how many places could someone find to hide in a one bedroom apartment?" I retorted.

"I don't care, Michael. Pack a bag. I'm going to come pick you up," she stated.

I closed my eyes as I picked up the envelopes and catalogues and placed them back on the table.

"Mom! I'm fine!" I whined.

"Pack," was all she said before hanging up.

I groaned and let my arm fall to my side.

A tap came from the front door, startling me. I swallowed thickly and tip-toed to the door. Outside the peephole, there was nothing. I quietly checked the locks again. They were secure.  
I let out a shaky breath. When my phone rang again, I yelped and nearly jumped out of my skin. I looked at the screen, expected to see my mom's number. Instead, a FaceTime call was coming in, the name "Zak" on screen. I stared at the phone in disbelief. Just when I thought I had ghosts…  
I accepted the call and padded over to the couch. On screen, a face I had not seen in five years came on, and I was surprised to see him not in a black on black ensemble with a decrepit building as his background, but bare shoulders and a warmly lit bedroom. A shadow covered the right side of his face, but it was definitely Zak Bagans.

"Zak?" I asked.

He smiled.

"Hey, Mikey," he replied.

Suddenly, I felt extremely relieved. The shakiness in my hands I had not realized was happening, calmed, and my breathing regulated.

"Jesus, it's been a minute!" I breathed out.

Zak just smiled.

"It has," he agreed.

I checked the time on the stove clock. 2:11.

"What the hell are you calling me at this hour for?" I asked playfully.

He laughed at that.

"I had a bad feeling, Mikes. Thought I should call and see if you were alive," he replied.

I tucked my legs underneath me and looked away.

"Damn your intuition," I said.

Zak's smile faded.

"Was I right?" he asked.

I nodded.

"What's going on? Are you okay?" he asked worriedly.

"I think I'm okay. I just had a dream that three guys broke into my apartment. I thought it was real, but I must have been dreaming."

Zak sighed.

"Holy shit," he said lowly, "Are you sure you're okay?"

I nodded.

"I called my mom. She's going to come pick me up. I'll stay at her house for the night," I said.

Zak nodded.

"Good," he said.

I finally cracked a smile.

"Well, since I haven't talked you in so long, how the hell are ya?" I asked playfully.

Zak grinned.

"I'm alright," he said.

He moved to the side, the shadow covering half of his face vanishing.

"Let me get my glasses," he said.

He moved his hand as he leaned over, his phone's camera panning across his bare chest. I bit my lip, wondering if he was doing so on purpose. When he reappeared again, he was wearing black rimmed glasses over his eyes.

"Can't see the screen anymore?" I teased.

Zak snorted.

"Can't see shit," he replied, "Besides a nightmare, how have you been?"

I felt my amusement fall to the wayside.

"Up and down. Shit's been bad," I replied.

Zak frowned.

"What's been going on, Mikey?" he asked softly, "You never even told me why you left."

I nodded.

"I know," I whispered.

His dark blue eyes were trained on me through the screen.

"You know you can talk to me. Any time. Anywhere," he reminded me.

I gave him a small smile.

"I know," I repeated, "I just…It's hard to talk about. But, it just seems like ever since I left, shit's been going out of control."

Zak nodded, still watching me carefully, listening and taking in my words.

He had always been good at that. I had briefly worked with his crew on Travel Channel's Ghost Adventures for two seasons. Living in Las Vegas. Working with three of the best guys I had ever met. I had had a blast, and made friends for life. Nick, Zak and Aaron had been my brothers. Nick and I were not so close, but Aaron had become a big brother to me, and Zak, a hero to look up to and a shoulder to cry on. I had missed them ever since.

"What about you?" I asked, steering the attention away from myself, "I heard about Nick. Not too many details, but I know he's not with the crew anymore."

Zak looked away to the lamp beside him.

"Yeah," he said quietly, "It wasn't good. It's a long story."

I just nodded. Zak perked up.

"But, things have been okay. A little rocky, as of late, but good. I've been okay."

"How's your asthma?" I asked, "Allergies?"

Zak laughed.

"Always worrying about my bullshit," he teased.

"Well, your fragile ass worried me!" I bit back.

Zak burst out laughing.

"Allergies are pretty much under control. Asthma's good. Eyes are getting worse, but hey! Can't have it all," he replied.

I smiled.

"You're getting old, Zacky boy," I sang.

Zak just laughed.

"Dammit, I missed you," he said, laying down on his side, "Why don't you come back to Ghost Adventures? You know your job was always here waiting for you. Even when we had Ash, you know I would have a job you could do."

"Because shit here wouldn't chill out," I replied, "I've just…I've been in a bad head space."

Zak frowned. He didn't want to hear that. One could see it in his eyes. Mentioning bad mental health made him worry more than anything.

"Why didn't you call me?" he asked, tone now far more serious.

"Zak, I didn't want to bother you with my shit!"

"Fuck that!" he snapped, then calmed down, "You are and always will be mine and Aaron's best friend. I know we've been shitty and have neglected to contact you, but you were our friend then and still are. That never changed!"

I smiled at that. It had been years since I had seen the boys, much less received a phone call. It was nice to know that after all this time, Zak was still fiercely loyal. I should had never doubted him.

"What are you doing this weekend?" he asked, voice now calmer.

I shrugged.

"Nothing that I know of," I replied.

He smiled.

"Why don't you come up to Vegas for day or so?" he suggested, "Come hang out with us. You can clear you head. I know we have some catching up to do! That's for damn sure!"

I laughed.

"Zak, I would love to, but I can't afford to come up there. Not at the moment, anyway."

"For God sake, Mikes! I'll pay for your plane ticket!" he exclaimed, "I was going to do it, anyway."

I snorted.

"For a 20 minute plane ride?" I asked.

Las Vegas was only four hours away.

"How about this?" he asked, "What if I come pick you up tomorrow? Stay at my place for a few days?"

I let his proposal sink in. It honestly sounded wonderful, but I was still hesitant.

"Oh shit! Is there…is there a guy in the picture? Shit! I should've asked!" he panicked.

I burst out laughing.

"No! There's no one. I'm just me all alone on my own," I replied.

Zak smiled at that.

"Then, what do you say? Come to Vegas with me?" he asked.

I sighed. How could I say no?

"I'm off tomorrow, but I need to be back by Sunday night," I said.

A wicked smile crossed his lips.

"I drive fast," he said.

I laughed. Lord knew he did!

"Text me your address. I'll be there by noon," he replied.

"Sounds like a plan," I replied.

He just smiled.

"Has your mom made it yet?" he asked.

I shook my head, suddenly remembering to pack an overnight back. I climbed to my feet and moved down the hall.

"Shit! I forgot to pack. She should be here any minute," I said.

Zak shrugged.

"Well, I'll stay on the line until she gets there. Make sure you stay safe."

I felt a warmth spread through me. Zak had always been protective, but it just felt good to have that again.  
My mom arrived not two minutes later. I stuffed my things into my backpack and grabbed my keys, still on call with Zak.

"Tell Marni I said hi," he said.

I laughed.

"I will. Hey, Zak?"

"Yeah, Mikey?" he asked.

I watched him for a moment, almost hating that the call was over. I hadn't realized how much I had missed him until I saw him again. Of course, I still religiously watched the show I used to be a part of, but it was not the same as seeing the true, raw Zak Bagans, limp hair, tired eyes and all.

"Thanks for being psychic," I said playfully.

Zak smiled and grinned.

"I'm not psychic!" he laughed, "Just highly sensitive."

I bit my lip. There must still be a connection there. When we worked together, it only took him a week before he was in tuned with me. The magic of being an empath.

"Whatever. Anyway, thanks for staying on the line with me," I said.

Zak smile was nothing less than loving.

"Of course, Michael. Miss you. Love you. I'll see you around noon," he said.

For the first time in years, I felt my spirit lift.

"Love you, too. I'll keep an eye out for whatever demonic whip you decide to pull up in," I quipped.

Zak burst out laughing.

"You'll see. Sleep well, Mikes."

"You, too," I replied.

The call ended. Aside from my mom fussing over me until I fell asleep in my old bedroom at 4:00 AM, I was over the moon. I was going to be reuniting with old friends. Zak's innate ability to sense something was wrong had not failed him yet. Little did I know, I needed this.


	3. Old Friends

Zak was dressed, stuffed from breakfast, packed, and on the road by 8:00 AM. He forced himself to take a breath and had to use all of his willpower not to head out an hour earlier. He was excited. He had been too hyped to sleep much more after his call with his old friend. His mind raced and adrenaline pumped. He had thought after a few years of her absence that he would never hear from their former still photographer again. Now, he had renewed hope that maybe, just maybe, he could persuade Michael to rejoin the team. Not only had she made a great addition, and not only had he had a crush on her, but she had saved his life once.  
Zak remembered being bored out of his mind as he and former co-investigator Nick Groff spent countless hours reviewing portfolios. It was a game of tug-of-war with the network. If they liked a photographer, Travel did not, and vice-versa. A large percentage of the portfolios were amazing, but they were just not speaking to the Ghost Adventures Crew. When one did, and they interviewed the photographer, they never really seemed to click. No one seemed to be a perfect match until one day, while Aaron was surfing through whatever app he was one. Instagram? Twitter? Zak could not remember. All he could recall were the amazing photos and posts he saw. Creepy architectural shots, gorgeous landscape shots, and compelling candids from various events and situations. She even had blog posts on the paranormal. They had emailed her that night and flew to Las Vegas for an interview the next day.  
Zak remembered Michael had not been like the others. She was not some professional hard ass, nor was she a crazed fan taking the job because Travel Channel's name was on it. They simply clicked, and to Zak, that was the most important factor. It did not take them long to become friends. He remembered how nervous she was at first. She had seemed most comfortable with Aaron. Of course, Aaron was everyone's best friend. He took her under his wing. As a fellow photographer, they got along instantly. Michael's relationship with Nick was not as immediate, but she never seemed as nervous around him as she had been with Zak.  
Zak knew the presence he exuded. He was egotistical, at times a loudmouth, and even he had to cringe at how much of a douchebag he came off to be. However, he had never been disrespectful. He had been friendly, often competing with Aaron for her attention. Those first few days on the road together were full of Aaron making her roar with laughter, Zak saying something stupid, and her laughing nervously at him. He would laugh it off, call himself a nerd to ease the tension, then mentally cut himself down for showing off. However, he found that she also listened to his every word when playtime was over, and work began. She absorbed his information like a sponge. Then, she started asking questions, and intelligent conversations were happening. It took her more than a few weeks to get used to his dry sense of humor and his serious manner when Aaron was goofing off. However, when she did get a feel for him, they began to connect.  
Michael liked to do a lot of the activities he liked to do on the road that the guys detested. Zak often liked to visit their location's nearby antique and junk stores in search of treasures of the macabre. Aaron was often game, but one day while Nick was asleep and Aaron was sick, Zak decided to ask Michael. It was not that he was incapable of exploring the town by himself, but he enjoyed having company while shopping. When he asked her, she replied with a shrug and followed in step with him to the strip of stores down the block. The beginning of the exploration was quiet. She was never one to talk much around him. However, the end of their quest was filled with jokes and laughter. That was how their friendship had been ever since. She would laugh at the jokes the guys rolled their eyes at, play along with his lame ideas, and put him in a state of shock when he would cut himself down, and she would turn it around with her honest opinion. He, in turn, did the same for her.  
During those two seasons, she had stabilized him. She provided peace in his unpredictable life. Nothing about his world seemed to phase her. Not when he was spooked by a shadow figure. She would look at it with no reaction. She had been having paranormal experiences all of her life. None of it bothered her. Ghosts existed. That was part of life. That was her normal. It was oddly peaceful to the crew when they were in the middle of a freakout, and she would stare at them like they were crazy. Of course, they thought she was crazy when a rock was thrown at her, or a book was slung off the shelf by an unseen force, and she would not even blink. It fascinated Zak. Especially when it came to demonic entities.  
When he or his guys were being affected by dark forces, she would standby patiently. The after effects of a difficult lockdown would leave Aaron and Nick quiet, and Zak often violent. He would curl up in a corner of the van, gritting his teeth in pain and rage, and it would dissipate as soon as she put a hand on his shoulder. When he discovered this, he found a whole new world of possibilities. It had always been difficult to cleanse himself. He had a hard time closing himself off from spirit energy, forget grounding himself. Aaron had always been better at that. There was something about their energies that meshed perfectly.  
Aaron had had a theory about this. If they took elements into account, it all made perfect sense. Aaron leaned more toward the element of spirit. He could see auras. He held a deep interest in art, music, and magic. He said that Zak was undeniably water. Zak had such an attraction to anything water. The ocean, swimming pools, fountains. Water personalities tended to be sensitive and intuitive. Zak was a paranormal sensitive, and often showed strong qualities of an empath. It was extremely clear that Michael was Earth. She mothered the guys, always on Zak's case about his well-being. Her favorite locations on the show were always the outside episodes. Forests, cemeteries, etc. Things seemed to slow down when he was around her, and aside from her extremely well-built wall against negative energy, she was a natural ground. Water can rage out of control. Earth stabilized. Yet, she had empathic qualities as well, and Zak had not realized she was capable of them until one night close to the end of season four when her bond with him saved his life.

***

When I returned home that morning after the night's upsets, my mom was, needless to say, not too happy when I told her what my plans were for the weekend.

"I'm going to head up to Zak's place and chill for a night," had not been met with positive reception.

My mother liked the Ghost Adventures crew. However, she had liked them better before she met them. Zak's tendency to party and bring girls over had, for lack of a better phrase , pissed her off. She thought he was a manipulative asshole. When they first met, Zak was nothing but kind and respectful. Of course, I hated how he acted with these rich, blonde Vegas girls, but that was none of my business. He eventually began to grow out of that. We were best friends—family. My mom didn't understand it. In not seeing Zak in so long, and then he's suddenly driving to Flagstaff to pick me up for the weekend? I could see where she was coming from.  
I was nervously getting ready when I heard a knock at the door. Startled, I left my bathroom. My makeup was done, but my hair was still up in a clip. Hell, I was still in my pajamas! It was just 11:00 AM.

"What the hell?" I murmured to myself.

I walked up to the front door and peered through the peephole. Outside, all I could see was a figure in black, spiky black hair pointed at the door as the figure kept their head down. I felt my heart leap into my throat. I knew that spiky hair anywhere.

"Zak?" I asked.

I opened the door, and sure enough, it was the man himself. He looked up from shuffling his shoes, then smiled warmly.

"Hey, Mikey!" he said happily.

A rush of emotions I could not begin to untangle washed over me. Overwhelming relief, raw excitement, sheer happiness.

"Oh my God!" I breathed out, "Get in here!"

Zak laughed and stepped inside. I shut the door behind us and reached up to hug him.

"I know I'm a little early," he began.

I shook my head. I honestly didn't care. This reunion was far overdue.

"That's okay," I murmured into his chest.

Zak's massive arms tightened around me, squeezing just a little too tight. When we parted, his hands never left my shoulders.

"How are ya doing? Did the rest of the night go okay?" he asked, concerned.

I smiled.

"Yeah, it was fine. Relatively uneventful. Well, aside from my mom getting pissed about my weekend plans," I replied.

Zak just smiled. That was when I really looked at him. Five years had gone by since we had seen each other in person. He was still the same old Zak, but there were some subtle differences five years had made. First and foremost, his teeth.

"She still hates me?" he asked.

"She'll get over it. Come into the kitchen where there's some light. Let me look at you."

Zak huffed.

"Mikey!" he whined.

"Come here!"

I pulled him by the arm into the kitchen, flicking on the light as I walked by. When I finally got to see him in the light, I was floored. For his age and all the shit he had been through, he looked amazing. Zak don't crack.  
Zak pretended to hate every second of my studying his face. I touched his jaw and turned his head to the side. His face had filled out a little, the edges of his hairline starting to recede, deep wrinkles were forming around his eyes, and his mustache and goatee were speckled with gray. I had to smile at that. Of all the vigorous covering up her did on his hair, skin, and teeth, he let those go. His eyes were bright behind his glasses, and for once since I had met him, I could not sense any darkness.

"You look good, Zak," I said, then smiled and ran a thumb over his chin, "Getting old there, sunshine."

Zak playfully swatted my hand away.

"Stop," he laughed.

His teeth, though he had always whitened them, looked like they had had some work done. His front teeth were straight, and the gap on the bottom row seemed to be gone. It was only when he looked away in embarrassment did I notice his nose.

"Wait," I said slowly, "Did you…?"

He absently scratched behind his nostril.

"My nose? Yeah," he said sheepishly.

I sighed and leaned against the counter, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Why? There was nothing wrong with your nose," I said.

"Mikey, I couldn't breathe!" he exclaimed, then shrugged, "But, since they were at it…"

I just smiled and shook my head. I remembered the constant bitching about congestion and not being able to smell. Forget the snoring that Aaron had made fun of. I was just glad he could finally breathe.

"Well, either way, you look great. You look healthy," I said.

Zak smiled softly.

"Yeah, you, too," he said quietly, "You haven't changed a bit. I like your hair this long."

I froze as he reached up and ran a piece of black through his fingers. I swallowed thickly. There were still times where he made me nervous. Not because I was scared of his strength, but something else entirely.  
Zak let my hair drop and shuffled nervously. He cleared his throat and put his hands in the pockets of his camo cargo pants.

"Don't know if that's good or bad," I said, trying to break the tension.

Zak's lips curved up and his eyes narrowed, his expression between a warm smile and a deadly glare.

"Good, Mikey. You look amazing," he said.

I bit my tongue, knowing my face was burning red. Zak laughed and reached over to kiss the top of my head. I playfully wriggled away, making him laugh.

"You need some help packing?" he asked.

I shook my head.

"No, I'm packed. My bags are on the bed if you want to take them out. I'll finish getting ready and we can hit the road."

I walked passed him and led the way to the bedroom.

"I'm in no rush, Mikes. Take your time," he said.

We walked down the hall and I reached in my bedroom to turn the light on for him.

"I didn't pack a whole lot. Figured it wouldn't fit in the tiny backseat of whatever race car you're driving nowadays," I popped off.

Zak smiled knowingly.

"Not necessarily," he replied.

I turned and stared up at him. He gestured for me to follow with a tilt of his head.

"Let me show ya," he said.

I raised an eyebrow at him and followed. He walked up to the door and opened it for me. I squinted in the sunlight and stepped out onto the concrete porch. There, sitting in the street behind a small compact car, was a matte black, lifted Ford Raptor.

"Jesus Christ!" I blurted out.

Zak howled with laughter. Excited, I spun around and shoved him back inside.

"Grab my shit. I just gotta get dressed and we'll hit the road."

Zak laughed at me.

"Can I drive?" I asked as I hurried back into the bathroom.

As soon as I shut the door and began to change, Zak stated his disapproval.

"Hell no!"

***

That night, when we arrived at Zak's place, I was slightly confused. I had been to Zak's house plenty of times, and stayed the night multiple times. It had become a second home during filming. Zak had been so proud of the three-story mansion his show had bought him. The mixture of industrial and gothic styling, though very novelty Hard Rock Cafe-like, screamed him. When we pulled up to a mansion twice the size with a Mediterranean flair, I had no words. The home was gorgeous and beyond something anyone outside of the celebrity circle could dream about.

"The old place was just too infested with dark energy. I couldn't handle it anymore," he explained as we pulled up the cobblestone driveway.

I was staring slack-jawed at the building in front of me.

"I don't blame you. Zak, this is gorgeous," I gushed.

Zak smiled and pressed a button on the map light cluster. The garage door opened, and he slowly pulled in, careful to keep the massive truck straight. What we pulled up next to should have surprised me. I wasn't, though.  
When I met Zak, he had been driving a Bentley coupe. He went through expensive sports cars like water. A custom Dodge Challenger. Some bizarre Ferrari that was currently not here. Another Raptor. All of which seemed to have been either sold or traded in. I had known about the white Lamborghini. He had had that for a long time. Whether it was the same one I had known about or not, he usually had one. Of course, now there was a silver one next to it. On the other side of the truck was a two-toned Rolls Royce Wraith.  
I stared at Zak as he shut the engine off.

"Why didn't you bring the Rolls?" I asked.

Zak's eyes widened.

"Not in that neighborhood!" he exclaimed.

I laughed at that. I didn't blame him. The neighborhood where my apartment building was located was not a bad neighborhood. Nevertheless, ten seconds left alone and that thing would be gone.

"We'll take it out tomorrow. We can go check out my museum. It's gated," he said.

We were exiting the truck and grabbing my bags as he said this. I grabbed my duffel bag from the tall backseat and glared at him.

"What? When the hell did you get a museum?" I squeaked out.

Zak laughed.

"We have a lot of catching up to do!"

Inside the house, I was shocked. It was almost the polar opposite of the old place. Zak's original home had had dark objects, gothic decor, and horror movie memorabilia everywhere. It had been Halloween there 24/7. This house was way more sophisticated, with ornate furniture, some of which looked Victorian, religious statues such as Buddhas and crosses, and earthy textures. It was incredibly peaceful. It seemed as if Zak's taste in interior decorations had aged with him.

"The house is spiritually cleansed on the regular," Zak said as he gave me a tour, "Not too much of the gaudy Vegas vibe like the old house."

I couldn't speak. I was in awe of the architecture. Some areas oozed Zak's darker tastes, or richer tastes. His walk-in closet was to die for, and it smelled thickly of his cologne and leather. The bedrooms were massive, his being the size of my apartment, if not bigger. I found it refreshing, however, that none of it said a flashy tool lived there. I think he had finally grown out of it. He had had a wonderful glow-up.

"What do you think?" he asked as we returned to the living room.

His Border Collie, Gracie, followed closely behind with a squeaky toy in her mouth. I followed Zak to the back door, and we stepped out into the warm air.

"I think it's amazing, Zak. I'm really proud of you," I replied.

We walked over to some familiar black wicker patio furniture. He sat down on the sofa and patted the spot beside him. I sat down with him.

"Thanks, Mikey," he said.

"So, what happened since I left?" I asked.

Zak smiled.

"This and that. I moved all of my collections of cursed objects into a museum. It's become somewhat of an attraction," he said proudly.

"I bet," I laughed.

He went on to explain how the opportunity to purchase the historic house his museum was in came to be. I watched as his eyes lit up when he explained it. He then gave me some more of the grittier details, including the Demon House and Nick's departure.

"I won't bore you with the fighting," he said, looking out over the pool at the sun, which was now turning bright red as it set over Las Vegas, "It was just a lot of bullshit."

"Well, Zak, you have to agree with him when it came to his kids. He didn't want to risk exposing them. I know Veronique hated it," I replied.

"I know, and I 100 percent understand that part. I don't blame him at all," he said.

He was quiet for a moment, deep in thought.

"I guess I might have pushed him a little too hard," he quietly admitted, "He was never too big on the demon stuff. When it came to buying that house, he was out."

I nodded.

"I'm siding with Nick on that one," I said.

Zak's eyes flashed up to me. I gave him a hard stare.

"You know I hated you guys dipping your fingers in that shit," I snapped, "Aaron has a damn good grounding system. I never worried too much about him, but you?"

"I've always been careful," he argued.

"Zak, you stay too open! Your thrill seeking sometimes goes too far!"

I half expected Zak to get mad at me, but I was pleasantly surprised when he started laughing. I stared at him wide-eyed.

"What?" I exclaimed.

He flashed me brilliant white teeth.

"You sound like Billy," he said.

I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. Billy had only just started working with the crew in season three. He never said much to Zak during filming, but he would often take the parent role over Zak on the road. The kicker was, however, Zak would listen to him.

"Someone has to," I said jokingly.

Zak leaned back into the cushions.

"Make me out to be the damn problem child," he grumbled, "I've gotten way better about how I go about investigations. It's not like it used to be."

"Oh, I know," I said, watching Gracie as she stepped down into the pool to cool her belly.

Zak narrowed his eyes at me accusingly. I leaned closer to him.

"I never stopped watching the show," I explained.

His face softened at that. He studied me for a minute.

"I wish you'd never left. Aaron isn't the only one who had a great defense against dark energy. You could sense it coming before it happened," he said.

I felt my cheeks heat up at that.

"I learned it from you," I said.

He leaned closer to me, his eyes now dark and his jaw set.

"You know you're the only reason I'm still alive, right?" he asked, tone now serious.

I rolled my eyes.

"Please, Zak—"

"If you had not sensed what you had sensed in that hotel, I would be dead. I had no idea my lungs were that bad!"

I felt my shoulders drop, sadness washing over me. I remembered that night.

The investigation started off like any other. I was put on infrared duty, helping Aaron take some shots in the halls when something I cannot explain came over me. Nick was in a room by himself, and Zak was alone in the basement. Aaron and I were not filming. It was close to 4:00 AM. The guys had had some bizarre activity happen, but I had not felt anything until the boys were deep into their investigation.  
I felt my chest tighten. Not in any sort of frightening way. What scared me initially was that it came on without a trigger. It was the sort of tightness that happens when you're worried about something. I felt the need to pull away from Aaron. I needed to find the stairs. For some reason, at that moment, I needed to go to the basement.

"Where's Zak?" I asked randomly.

The concerned tone of my voice forced Aaron to stare at me in surprise.

"What do you mean 'Where's Zak?'" he asked, "He's in the basement."

At the moment, it was the first time I had had any kind of vision. My eyes went out of focus, and I could see a dark shadow float across stones. My heart beat started to pick up.

"Something's wrong," I said distantly.

Aaron put his camera down and placed a hand on my shoulder.

"What?" he asked, "Mikey, talk to me."

My eyes finally met Aaron's, and my mind was screaming to get to Zak.

"Zak's in trouble," I said.

Aaron didn't question how I knew Zak was in trouble. The crew had been building empathic abilities for some time. I didn't understand it at the time. I didn't even believe these borderline psychic abilities were real until what happened next.

"Well, let's go!" Aaron said.

Job forgotten, I grabbed his arm and we ran to the nearest elevator. The ride from the fourth floor to the basement was excruciatingly slow. I paced the car as we descended through the building. Aaron fidgeted at the door.

"Come on. Come on. Come on!" he growled.

When the light reached "B" and the door opened, we raced in, flashlights at the ready.

"Zak!" I called.

We moved through the darkness, and just as we found Zak, my skin prickled with goosebumps. He only looked at us briefly before he suddenly collapsed onto the concrete floor. Aaron and I screamed his name and ran up to him. I beat Aaron, falling over Zak's body and reaching for his face.

"Zak! Zak!" I shouted.

Aaron was in shock.

"Holy shit, dude! You were right. How did you know?" he asked.

I shook my head and patted Zak's cheek. I then held my head over his mouth to listen. My blood turned cold, when air didn't come out.

"Aaron, he's not breathing!"

Aaron climbed to the other side of Zak's body. He put a finger under Zak's nose, then listened to his chest.

"Fuck! Zak! ZAK!" he panicked.

"Call 911, Aaron!"

Aaron nodded and grabbed his cell phone out of his pocket. I pushed Zak's jacket away from his chest and began CPR.

"Come on, asshole," I growled, "You're not dying on me tonight!"

I worked vigorously to bring air back into his lungs while Aaron spoke frantically to the operator. In that time, the crew had gathered around us, trying to revive Zak.

"Try mouth-to-mouth, Mikey," Nick said.

I didn't think twice. I breathed air into his lungs, then Nick did chest compressions. Just when we thought we might lose him, he opened his eyes, coughing and struggling to catch his breath.

"Nick! Nick, stop! He's awake!" I shouted in a panic.

We could hear the elevator activate, the paramedics coming down to the basement. Zak squirmed in a panic.

"What the fuck?" he rasped.

His breathing was still heavy.

"Easy, bro," Nick said.

I wasn't thinking about it when I took his hand in one of mine, then placed the other over his racing heart.

"You better not be having a heart attack," I said, "Zak, look at me. Can you hear me?"

Zak looked right at me. His breathing was getting worse.

"Can't breathe," he choked out, "Mikey, I can't breathe!"

The paramedics rushed in, one thankfully carrying an oxygen tank.

"The paramedics are here. You're going to be okay," I said.

Nick was explaining to the paramedics what had happened. I let Zak go and watched as they loaded our lead investigator onto the gurney, an oxygen mask pressed to his face. Aaron stepped up to me and put an arm around my shoulders.

"God, I hope he's okay," he said.

I nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, me too," I replied quietly.

At the hospital, Nick and Aaron were back in the emergency ward with Zak. Billy and I couldn't take it, and stood outside of the ER doors, sitting on a concrete ledge of a flower bed.

"I hope that wasn't a heart attack," I said to Billy.

Billy kept his head hung, shaking it.

"That's what it sounded like to me, Mikes," he said.

I closed my eyes, hoping and praying that Billy was wrong.

"If he ends up being a heart patient, he won't be able to continue to investigate. Not like this, anyway," I said.

"If he makes it," Billy said solemnly.

I gritted my teeth.

"Billy, he's strong."

"He's always had a fragile respiratory system. Anything could be going on with his heart," he said.

I felt tears of panic rush to my eyes. Billy put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed.

Another half hour passed before Nick emerged with Aaron. Billy and I jumped to attention.

"What happened?" I asked.

"Is he okay?" Billy asked frantically.

Nick gave us a tired smile.

"He's fine. He's awake and stable. Just tired," he explained.

"Yeah," Aaron agreed, "Mikey, he wants to talk to you. You wanna go in?"

I nodded and eagerly followed.

"It wasn't a heart attack?" I asked.

Aaron shook his head and opened the double doors for me.

"No, just a severe asthma attack. There's no telling what kind of shit he was breathing in," he replied.

I let out a breath of relief.

"Thank God," I said.

We walked around the ward to Zak's room. A nurse was in typing on the bedside computer. Zak was sitting up, a breathing tube in his nose and a cup of water in his hand.

"Hey, G," Aaron announced, "I found Michael."

Zak perked up.

"Hey! Come in," he said, his voice hoarse, but strong.

The nurse finished typing notes on the computer.

"Okay, Mr. Bagans. Do you need anything else?" she asked.

Zak looked up at her and shook his head.

"No, ma'am. Thank you," he replied.

"Okay. I'll be making rounds, so if you need me, press the call button. I'll be in in a flash," she said.

We thanked her, and with that, she disappeared behind the curtain. Aaron tapped my arm.

"I'm going to step out for a minute," he said.

I nodded and watched him slip back through the curtain. I turned to Zak. He smiled tiredly.

"Hey, Mikey," he said softly.

I smiled back and walked up beside him.

"Hey," I said.

He reached up, and I leaned down to hug him.

"You scared the shit out of us!"

Zak laughed.

"I'm sorry," he apologized.

I grabbed a nearby chair and sat down.

"It's okay. I'm just glad you're okay. What'd the doctor say?" I asked.

Zak looked down at his cup.

"Said I had a severe asthma attack. Probably a lot of contaminants in that damn basement," he replied.

I sighed.

"I have to wear a respirator mask and keep an inhaler handy from now on. Guess my lungs have gotten worse," he explained.

I sighed. I hated to hear that.

"Mikey?"

I met his eyes.

"You know what else that doctor said?" he asked.

I narrowed my eyes.

"What?"

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"If you hadn't found me when you did, I'd be dead," he said darkly.

I felt my jaw drop.

"What?" I whispered.

"Aaron told me what happened. You sensed something was wrong and came to my rescue," he replied.

I was at a loss for words.

"Right?" he asked.

"Well, y-yeah," I stammered, "Zak, I don't know how to explain it. It was like I had this flash image of you and this bad feeling."

He just nodded.

"I thought you were developing empathic abilities," he said knowingly.

I rolled my eyes.

"I guess," I said.

"You are!" he raised his voice.

He reached over and took my hand. I wrapped my fingers around his larger palm.

"You saved my life tonight," he said softly.

Whether it was the relief of knowing my best friend was okay, my exhaustion, or both, I felt tears prick my eyes again.

"Don't cry, Michael," he said, "Come here."

He reached an arm out. I leaned forward and hugged him again. He held me tightly, and for the first time, kissed my temple. At that, I lost it.

"I owe you, Mikey," he said quietly.

I just shook my head.

"No, you don't. Just don't ever try to die on me again and we're even," I said.

Zak laughed at that.

"I'll try," he said, "I'll try."

Zak picked at his nails.

"We still need you, Mikes," he said.

I turned my head, tearing my absent gaze away from the trees on the edge of the yard. I swallowed thickly.

"It's a big decision, Zak!"

"Hey, I'm not pushing you, sweetie," he said, "I'm just stating the obvious."

I couldn't help but smile.

"I knew there was another reason you dragged me out here," I teased.

Zak burst out laughing.

"No! No! We just missed you," he said.

I was sure my cheeks were pink.

"I missed you guys, too," I quietly admitted.

Zak scooted over and hugged me. I reached around his massive shoulders, now able to get my chin over them. He patted my back and let go.  
Within the house, the door opened and Gracie shot across the yard.

"Zak?" called a familiar voice.

I jumped in surprise.

"Out here!" Zak called.

I turned around to see a tall, slender bald man, sporting a beard, walk through the back door.

"What are you—MIKEY!"

"Aaron!" I exclaimed.

I jumped up from the chair and ran up to him.

"Holy shit!" he shouted as he hugged me, "Why didn't you tell me she was here, bro?"

Zak laughed.

"It was a surprise," he replied.

Aaron let go of me.

"God, I missed you!"

"I missed you, too, Aaron. Look at you!" I said, "Zak, are you starving him?"

Zak scoffed.

"He doesn't eat anything but nuts and berries!" he retorted.

Aaron grinned.

"I just don't eat garbage anymore," he said, "Speaking of eating, you guys want to grab a bite? I'm starving!"

Zak and I eagerly agreed, and followed Aaron back through the house.

It felt like I was walking in a dream, being back with these guys, and it made me seriously debate returning to Ghost Adventures.


	4. Home

Aaron and Zak stood in front of Zak's stove, Aaron with his cell phone in his hand and an empty paper plate on the island, and Zak still working on his slice of cake that we had brought home from the restaurant. I was sitting on the other side of the island, still working on my slice. I watched the boys as they reminisced on all the fun times I had missed. I couldn't help but smile at them. Aaron had his hands in the air, making faces to emphasize the story he was telling. Zak's eyes were glued to his friend, the smile never leaving his face. I had never heard so much laughter out of the two in the time I had known them. In fact, I felt like I hadn't laughed so much in years.  
There was a peace between the two. No tension, no fighting, no jealousy. Zak was a lot less uptight. He let himself have fun. What surprised me the most was that he was not jumping away when Aaron touched him. Back in the day, Zak had tended to jump or pull away when touched. He seldom put a friendly hand on a shoulder. The amount of affection the two showed each other and others had changed dramatically. I had even noticed that when watching the show. Zak would hold Aaron by the shoulders, or Aaron would take Zak's arm or protectively put a hand on his back. Their brotherhood had grown immensely, and it made me so happy to see.  
Still, there was an emptiness there. You could feel it when the laughter died and one of us would sniff or cough. There was a missing voice. Zak and Aaron didn't seem to react to it, but I felt it. It was just different not having Nick here, and knowing I would probably never see him again. I sighed heavily. It had been for the best, of course, but it was still strange.

"So," Aaron said loudly.

Zak and I looked up from our plates. Aaron had his arms crossed over his chest and was glaring at me, a smirk on his lips.

"Did you perhaps, maybe, kinda wanna…come back to the show?" he asked.

I tried not to laugh as his eyes widened and he put his hands in the air, shrugging.

"Aaron, don't push it," Zak scolded.

"What?" Aaron exclaimed, "I was just asking!"

"I know, but I've already discussed it with her," he said.

Aaron glared at him, his mood suddenly turning serious.

"Did you tell her about how crew members keep quitting?" he asked accusingly, "What about building a stronger foundation like you said?"

Zak's nostrils flared in aggravation. I looked from Aaron to Zak and set my fork down. Zak's eyes flashed to me before darting to his shoes.

"Aaron," he growled.

I felt my heart skip. What did he mean?

"Crew members keep quitting?" I asked.

Zak just rubbed the side of his face and turned to set his plate down.

"It's just some bullshit, Mikey. Not a big deal," he grumbled out.

"G!" Aaron snapped, then turned to me, "Things are kind of…I don't know how to put it."

"Falling apart?" Zak asked.

Aaron closed his mouth and looked at him with sad eyes.

"I didn't want to put that phrase in the universe," Aaron said softly, "But, that seems to be what's happening."

My shoulders dropped and I stared at the guys in horror.

"What do you mean 'falling apart?'" I asked, "Is the show in trouble?"

Zak turned back to us and bit his bottom lip.

"Ever since I bought that damn house, we have had crew members continually quit on us. Mostly with our production crew at the network," he explained, "It's starting to get bad."

I took a deep breath and propped my elbows on the edge of the granite island.

"Well, maybe it's just a slump?" I asked hopefully.

"Maybe," Aaron said.

"It's just that every decision I make—that we make," Zak said, gesturing to himself and Aaron, "It's like walking on thin ice. Who's going to pack it up and leave? Who is going to not agree? Who's next?"

I nodded understandingly.

"So far, our bunch hasn't quit, with the exceptions of Ashley and Nick," Aaron said.

"No!" Zak agreed, "In fact, we have new people in our circle, but we don't know how long that will last. Mike, our new sound guy, he hasn't really had that much exposure to the paranormal. He's not that receptive to the energy. And Dakota. I don't know if you remember, Mikey. He was the kid that was making those spoofs on us."

I smiled and nodded.

"He won the contest? Yeah, I remember him!" I replied.

"He's our backup camera guy now," Aaron said.

I stared at them in surprise.

"That's awesome!"

Zak's smile faded as soon as it formed.

"But he's extremely vulnerable to dark energy. No way in hell I'm putting him through that," he said.

"Well, he's just a kid," I agreed.

Zak nodded.

"Exactly."

"Which is why we need you," Aaron said playfully, then turned somber, "We were all kinds of lost when you left."

I sighed heavily.

"Aaron, don't start. You know how hard it was for me to go. I—"

"Why did you leave?" Zak interrupted.

I looked up at Zak. He had a very stern look on his face. Aaron's eyes widened, jaw slack.

"Yeah! You never told us why you left!"

"I know you said family shit," Zak continued.

I let my posture fail and slumped.

"It's hard to talk about, Zak. Even now," I replied, "Hell, I don't think I've really told anyone."

Aaron gave me a sympathetic look.

"You can't keep it bottled up, Mikey," he said softly.

Zak walked around the island towards me.

"Come," he said, touching a hand to my shoulder as he approached, "Let's talk about it."

"Zak, it may not be something we need to know," Aaron warned.

Zak jumped, not realizing that he may be pressing too hard.

"Shit," he whispered, then looked down at me, "Mikey, I'm sorry. If it's too much—"

"No, no!" I waved them off, then hopped down from the barstool, "Aaron, come on. I'll tell you guys. It's been way overdue, anyway."

Zak smiled warmly and put an arm around my shoulders.

"It'll make you feel better," he reassured.

Zak led the way to the couch in the living room. Aaron decided on a leather armchair. Gracie hopped right into his lap. I sat in the corner of the couch, Zak to my right. Aaron reached a long arm over and took my wrist. I glanced up to be met by a soft smile.

"Tell us what happened, Mikes," he encouraged.

I took a deep breath and began.

"Okay, well," I started, "My mom's parents—Zak, you met my grandmother. Remember?"

Zak chewed his lip in thought, looking lost for a moment. When the lightbulb went off in his head, he perked up.

"Oh yeah! Yeah, I really liked her," he said, then his face fell, "Wait! What happened?"

I wrung my hands and looked down at the concrete floor.

"A couple of guys broke in to their house," I began.

Zak watched me with wide, worried eyes. Aaron's jaw dropped. I swallowed thickly.

"They were looking for drugs and money. Of course, my grandparents were in their late 70's. They had medical issues, so there were prescriptions in the house."

Zak slowly nodded.

"Were?" he asked.

I bit my bottom lip. He caught that too easily.

"Yeah," I breathed out.

Aaron's eyes widened.

"Wait? What?" he asked, confused.

I reached up and nervously picked at my lip.

"They took all of the pills in the house, whatever money was in my grandmother's purse," I paused, feeling myself choking up, "They made off with one of the TVs and all of the jewelry. I don't know that any of it was worth much, but…doesn't matter."

I stopped and stared at the dark fireplace under the flatscreen, trying to figure out how to word what I wanted to say without triggering myself. I could see images in my head, and that didn't help.

"Then, the assholes who broke in…" I swallowed the lump in my throat and closed my eyes.

There was a reason I had never told this story to anyone, and after all these years, the emotions were still very raw.  
I felt Zak shift beside me. I opened my eyes to see his ringed, tattooed fingers gently wrap around my forearm. His palm was warm and comforting. I sighed and swallowed my emotions. I didn't want to cry tonight. Not in front of the guys.

"They beat the shit out of both them," I snarled, anger rising in place of sadness.

Aaron looked away from me, taking in a deep breath.

"Are you kidding me?" Zak asked in shock.

I shook my head.

"My grandfather is laying in a nursing home, rotting away. Has no idea who he is. He can't eat, or shower, or shit without a team of nurses helping him," I said.

"Jesus Christ," Zak whispered.

Aaron had his elbow now propped on the arm of the chair, his mouth hidden behind his hand.

"And your grandmother?" he asked, voice muffled by his hand.

I shook my head.

"They killed her," I whispered.

It was then burning tears rushed to my eyes. Aaron dropped his arm and slid off to the chair. He crouched in front of me and enveloped me in his long, slender arms. I felt one of Zak's large arms wrap around my waist, his cheek on top of my head. I put an arm each around the guys, pressing my nose and mouth into Aaron's shoulder and willing myself desperately not to cry.

"I'm so sorry, Mikey," Aaron said.

I felt Zak nod in agreement and rub my back.

"Why didn't you tell us?" he asked softly.

"Yeah," Aaron agreed, "Going through all of that alone?"

All I could do was shrug. I pulled away from Aaron and wiped some moisture from my eye. Zak placed a comforting hand on my upper back. He leaned his head down, trying to obtain eye contact and search my eyes. I looked up at him through a film of tears.

"You know we would have been down there in a heartbeat," he said.

I just nodded. Aaron swiped a few tissues from the tissue box on the coffee table and handed them to me. I thanked him and wiped my nose with one.

"I know. I just didn't want…I don't know," I shrugged, "I was in so much pain. I didn't want to share that."

"But see? That's what we're saying," Aaron said.

I forced myself to meet his eyes.

"You wouldn't have had to take it all alone," he finished.

I had no idea how to respond. I fidgeted a little and kept my eyes cast down. Zak gently butted his head against the side of my mine, and that did it for me. The tears seeped between my eyelids, and the emotions came pouring out like water from a faucet. I curled in on myself, remembering every little detail. The phone call while on lockdown, Zak begging me to wait on him so he could at least drive me to the airport, the state of shock I was in from the time I got home to the time my grandmother was wheeled through the emergency room. She was declared DOA. The funeral. Seeing her in a casket when she was supposed to be in her chair with her little candy dish and blanket, watching whatever god-awful game show or reality show was on TV. I cried more on that day than I had ever before. I had picked up my phone and clicked on the guys' names dozens of times. I gave up every time.  
Zak brought my head against his chest, tucking my head under his chin. Aaron gripped my hands, rubbing the backs with his thumbs.

"You guys have no idea how many times I tried to call. As time went on, I just thought you guys would forget about me and not care."

"Now, you know that's not true," Zak said, almost scoldingly.

"Yeah, Mikes," Aaron agreed, "You're family."

I swallowed and nodded.

We stayed in that position for a long time. Zak said nothing as he kept me locked against him, and Aaron effortlessly brought a smile through my crying. There had definitely been a hole ever since I left the show. Now, I wished I hadn't waited so long.  
A few hours later, Aaron went ahead and went home for the night. He had some work to do, leaving Zak and I alone in the house. We didn't say too much for a while, nor did we need to. He made tea while I cuddled with Gracie on the couch, watching TV. Zak sat next to Gracie, an arm gently resting on her hip.

"Zak?" I asked quietly, hating the silence and feeling the need to break it.

Zak looked up from his mug.

"Yeah?" he asked.

I reached over the dog and gripped his arm.

"You were right. Thank you," I said, referring to needing to vent.

He gave me a soft smile.

"You're welcome," he replied, "Can I ask you something?"

I nodded.

"Why didn't you come back? Did you really think we forgot and just dismissed you?" he asked, sounding hurt.

I laughed.

"No, Zak! No, after the funeral, shit snowballed. My parents were depressed. They were fighting. Then my aunt died. She had an aneurysm."

"Holy shit," Zak said quietly.

I just nodded.

"I guess I was kind of scared to come back because I thought, after she died, that maybe something came home with me," I explained.

Zak's eyebrows furrowed, concern shaping his features. He didn't like the sound of that.

"So, I sought out a cleanser. A spiritual cleanser. She performed a cleanse like we've had to do on investigations."

Zak just nodded.

"Right," he said.

"She said I had some residue from working on lockdowns, but I didn't have any attachments. No state of oppression. Nothing. The series of events that happened were just…coincidences."

Zak nodded again, taking my words in.

"But, she was able to effectively erase all the dark residue I didn't know I'd been carrying," I spoke up.

His eyes connected with mine.

"I thought about coming back after that," I said, "I really did. I even asked that cleanser if she would teach me how to do it."

Zak's eyebrows shot up his forehead in surprise.

"You became a spiritual cleanser?" he asked excitedly.

I laughed.

"Yeah. Professionally trained," I replied.

Zak's jaw fell and a smile slowly began to appear.

"Do you know, Michael—do you understand how much we need a spiritual cleanser on the team?"

His eyes were as wide as saucers.

"You can't go back to Flagstaff after telling me that!" he stated.

I burst out laughing.

"Zak-"

That man actually crawled up onto his knees and clasped his hands together, pleading.

"Mikey, please!" he begged.

I laughed and playfully shoved him.

"Stop!" I laughed.

He gave me a boyish grin and readjusted himself.

We settled into silence once more. Zak became absorbed in the show we were watching, but I quickly forgot about it. I glanced over at Zak. He didn't notice.  
I hadn't realized how much I missed this. On any normal night, I would be spending countless hours with my head in my phone or computer, ignoring the world around me as I tried to forget my day at my shitty job and the fact that I would have to do it all over again the next day. There would be no phone calls. No outings with friends. As I sat with Zak, satisfyingly tired from laughing and face hurting from smiling, I realized that I might have hit a low. It was going to be difficult saying goodbye. Did I want to return to Ghost Adventures? Absolutely. Was I prepared to say yes? That was the nerve-racking part. Would I be good enough to do it again? Would I be able to satisfy the network? However, there was no doubt in my mind that things between Aaron, Zak and I would be the same. Sitting with him and Gracie felt like old times. It was as if the years spent away never happened.  
Zak groaned and removed his glasses. He reached a long finger up and rubbed his eyes.

"Eyes are killing me," he grumbled.

I smiled sympathetically.

"Staring at the TV after eight hours on the road probably doesn't help," I said.

Zak sniffed, a small smile pulling at his lips.

"Ever since what happened at the Demon House, they've never been the same. I probably need to find some eye drops," he said.

I cut my eyes at him. Something happened to his eyes?

"What happened at the Demon House?" I asked.

He put his glasses back on and looked at me, surprise written on his face.

"You didn't watch it?" he asked.

"Zak, I'm not touching that one. You know how I feel about you messing with demonic shit!"

Gracie, sensing tension, hopped down from my lap and trotted to the kitchen to get a drink and avoid drama.

"What happened to your eyes?" I asked, toning my attitude down.

Zak sighed and pointed to the end table behind me.

"Turn that lamp on," he said.

I turned around and reached up to turn the lamp on as requested. When I turned back around, he removed his glasses again. One dark blue orb remained staring at me dead on, the other turned inward. I stared at him in shock, not understanding what I was looking at.

"What the hell?" I asked.

Zak let me lean forward and touch his shoulder, getting a closer look at his eyes.

"Doctors couldn't figure it out. I had the excruciating pain behind my eyes when I was in that house. I woke up with diplopia—permanent double vision. I believe it was caused by whatever evil entity was in that house. Surgery is too risky. I've been dealing with it since."

I just shook my head. Getting scratched was one thing. This?

"Jesus Christ, Zak! I knew if you kept on something bad would happen," I ranted.

He hung his head and put his glasses back on.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked.

"Because I know how you react," he said, then smiled, "Same as how I reacted to you not telling me what happened."

He shrugged.

"Guess we're two of a kind," he finished.

I laughed at that.

"Maybe I do need to come back," I teased, "Just to keep your ass in line."

Zak laughed. He let his head fall back against the couch cushion.

"Maybe so," he agreed.

"Even though you never listened," I playfully griped and glanced up at the TV.

Zak let out a deep breath.

"I don't know, Mikey. After all that's happened," he paused for a moment.

I looked back over him.

"I think I'll listen to you this time," he finished.

I smiled at him and patted his knee.

"Holding you to that," I said.

Zak chuckled.

A few minutes later, the two of us decided we needed sleep. Zak was exhausted, and we needed to get up early if we wanted to get any hanging out done before it was time to head back to Arizona. Zak gave me a quick tour of one of the guest bathrooms, showing me how to use the overly complicated and extra fancy shower head. Afterward, we said goodnight, and my head hit the pillows around 1:30 in the morning. Between the time I closed my eyes and the time the smell of food waking me up, I slept better than I had in a long time.

***

"If you feel anything weird, or if you feel like you can't breathe, gonna pass out, whatever, tell me the second it happens. Some of this shit is dangerous and I don't want you getting hurt," Zak said as we exited the Rolls and stepped out onto the pavement of the Haunted Museum's parking lot.

I shot him a glare over the roof of the car.

"It's not like I've never been in a haunted location before," I retorted.

Zak gave me this stone cold stare he normally reserved for scolding Aaron.

"Michael, there are some things in here that are seriously fucked up," he said darkly.

I followed him as he walked around the nose of the car and up to the back door employee entrance.

"I just don't want you getting hurt," he continued, tone softening.

"The moment I get spooked, I'm hiding behind your ass," I popped off.

Zak smiled, trying not to laugh.

"I mean it!" I went on as he typed in the key-code to unlock the door.

Inside was dark, though I was not surprised. There were a few offices, including his and a few of his staff. The walls were adorned with fan photos and Las Vegas tourism awards. I looked over them as he led me through the historic home turned haunted museum.  
Zak showed me the lighter of the collection, not even letting me go near rooms with health threatening objects. I was in absolute awe of the place. There were a few items I recognized, as he had kept these in his dungeon he had had at the old house. The rest were items I had never seen before. Antique puppets and clown dolls, serial killer possessions, and the haunted and creepy cars. He spoke so animatedly the entire walkthrough. He was so proud of this accomplishment. He had always said he would own a historic home. I had always thought he meant he would purchase and live in a creepy mansion, castle, or a church. He seemed just as pleased, if not more, with this outcome. I was extremely proud of him.  
Aaron showed up during the middle of our walkthrough. He was so excited to tell me about his own experiences. I listened and laughed at the two trying to one-up the other. Aaron seemed just as proud of it, though.

"Creeped out yet?" Zak asked as we walked back to the offices.

I shrugged. I could feel the spirits here. Who couldn't? I felt the off-putting sensation of something, or someone, watching me. It wasn't new to me. The spirits were here, but they didn't bother me.

"Not really," I replied.

Zak raised an eyebrow at me.

"You can't tell me these little clown things don't creep you out!" Aaron said.

I laughed.

"Well, yeah, they do, but I'm not scared," I replied.

Aaron huffed.

"Nothing scares you," he grumbled.

Zak led us to his office and reached for his keys to unlock the door.

"Yeah, but I also didn't take her to the scary rooms. I'm trying to protect her a little from taking something home," he said.

Aaron snorted.

"How come you don't do that for me?" he asked.

Zak opened the door.

"Aaron!" he scolded.

"Take a bullet for Mikey but not for me?" Aaron went on.

Zak wasn't in the mood to argue.

"Shut the door, Aaron. Yes, I do," Zak replied, "I protect you guys as much as possible. Why do you think I get the most bullshit?"

I looked around the office while Zak reached for a stack of paper on his desk. The room was a stark contrast from the rest of the museum. It was light and airy, with various protective amulets hanging on the walls and sitting on tabletops. An incense burner sat on a window sill, ash from the last burn still sitting in the bottom. A bookcase lined the back wall, books, including the two he wrote, binders, and random macabre knickknacks filled the shelves. Aaron sat down in one of the chairs while I explored.

"I know you do, G," Aaron said.

Zak viciously sifted through his paperwork, getting irritated and slamming things down.

"What's wrong, bro?" Aaron asked.

Zak growled and shook his head.

"I can't find that fucking pink sheet! I need that mailed out today," he replied, "Did you see it when you were up here the other day?"

"Zak, I don't mess with your stuff," he replied, "I don't remember."

A folder fell to the floor, causing its contents to slip out.

"DAMMIT!" Zak barked.

I reached down and helped him stack his papers.

"Thanks, Mikey," he said, trying to cool his temper.

"Welcome," I said quietly.

Zak huffed and set the folder aside.

"Okay. I'll be back," he said as we walked around me, "You two stay. Mikey, don't let Aaron touch anything."

Aaron's jaw dropped.

"Whatever!" he argued.

But Zak was already out the door. I walked behind the desk and sat down in Zak's chair. As soon as I did, I spotted a pink piece of paper under a leather planner. I pulled it out and held it up to Aaron.

"Is this it?" I asked.

Aaron leaned forward and squinted.

"Oh my God! Yeah, that's it. Here," he said, holding out his hand.

I handed the sheet over and Aaron stood to open the door. I looked over the mess on the desk in shock. Zak was a neat-freak. No clutter was allowed. It stressed him out—threw off his mojo. To see his workspace in such a state was a little alarming.  
Zak swung back by and thanked Aaron, then disappeared again. Aaron shook his head and shut the door.

"What the hell has been going on?" I asked.

Aaron was confused.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

I stared at him with wide eyes and gestured to the towers of papers.

"This is a shit-show, Aaron!"

He sighed and nodded.

"I know."

"Doesn't he have assistants that take care of all this?" I asked.

Aaron slowly shook his head.

"She quit too," he said.

I let my head fall back.

"He's been doing all of this on his own?" I asked.

"It's like I told you, Mikey," Aaron said.

He walked around the desk and leaned against the corner.

"Shit has not been good lately—especially with Zak. Ever since his dad passed away, it's been one thing after another. That's why I've been coming by and helping," he explained.

I stared up at Aaron in shock.

"He didn't tell me his dad was gone!"

Aaron nodded.

"When did this happen?" I asked.

"Right before Christmas. He's been having dreams about him. He's had a really rough time these past two months."

I sighed and picked at my fingers.

"He's lost, Michael," he said sadly.

I nodded. I hated this for him. As capable as Zak was of taking care of business, the empire he had built was too much for one person. Doing it on top of mourning over the loss of a parent? Impossible.  
Zak walked back into the office. He looked relieved now that he had found his paper.

"Okay," he said breathlessly, "I'm done. Mikey, do you want to grab a bite to eat before we hit the road?"

I nodded and stood up from his chair.

"Yeah. That sounds like a plan," I replied.

Aaron turned away from me.

"You wanna join us, Aaron?" Zak asked.

He shook his head.

"Nah, bro. I'm good. I need to head out, anyway."

I watched Aaron sadly.

"Are you sure?" I asked, hoping to get at least one more hour of some time with my brother before I headed home.

Aaron smiled and held his arms out. I reached up to hug him.

"I gotta get some errands done and head to Bacon's house," he said, "So, this is goodbye for now."

I squeezed his slender frame just a little tighter.

"You come back and visit us again soon. Okay?"

I nodded into his shoulder.

"I won't wait so long next time," I promised.

Aaron let me go and smiled down at me.

"Love ya, kiddo," he said.

I smiled sadly.

"Love you, too, bro," I quietly replied.

Aaron put an arm around my shoulders and turned to Zak.

"What's the plan, G? Are you spending the night?" he asked.

Zak nodded.

"Crash at Mikey's tonight," he replied.

By the time we reached Flagstaff, it would be close to dinner time. I had offered to let Zak spend the night so he wouldn't have to drive the four hours back home with tired eyes. It gave me peace of mind and a little more time with him.  
Aaron raised an eyebrow at him.

"You better behave," he said.

Zak just rolled his eyes.

"Aaron," he groaned.

Aaron just laughed, removing his arm from my shoulders.

"I'm messing with you!"

Zak just shook his head.

"Make sure you swing by and check on Gracie tonight," he said.

Aaron was still laughing.

"I will. I will," he said.

He reached up and brought Zak in to a bro-hug. I smiled at the two as I watched them.

"See ya later, man," Zak said.

"Drive safe. No shenanigans or hanky-panky," Aaron said playfully.

Zak smiled at that.

"Stop it," he said.

Aaron grinned and shrugged. Zak shook his head and opened the door, gesturing for me to go through first, Aaron following.  
Zak locked up and we met with Aaron in the parking lot, talking a little and saying one last goodbye before Zak and I hit the road. When Aaron left, Zak twirled his keyring around his index finger.

"Alright, Mikey," he spoke up, "What are ya hungry for? There's a pretty good little barbecue joint up the road from here."

He started to pass me when I grabbed his arm.

"That sounds good to me. Hey, what a sec."

Zak stopped in his tracks and looked down at me, concerned.

"What's up?"

I took a step back and crossed my arms over my chest. I was a little nervous about bringing up his father, so I chose my words wisely and kept my tone light.

"Why didn't you tell me about your dad?" I asked.

His face fell and he groaned.

"Michael—"

"You let me sit there last night and boo-hoo about my bullshit when your own father just passed away!"

"Mikey, your grandfather has irreversible brain damage and your grandmother was murdered!" he argued, "I was worried about you! You kept me in the dark for years!"

I clenched my jaw, trying to control my temper.

"I know. I'm sorry," I said in defeat, "I'm okay, though. It's you I'm worried about. Aaron told me about the shit you've been going through. Juggling all of this by yourself while mourning over the loss of your dad?"

Zak stared at his feet. I watched as he ground his teeth, the muscles in his jaw twitching. I stepped up closer to him, tearing his focus away from his shoes.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

It was like a switch had been flipped. I watched as his resolve shattered with his ego like glass on the concrete. He transferred his weight from one foot to the other. He then looked up at me with the most heartbroken expression. His eyes watered and he shook his head, as if trying to keep himself together.

"Things are going to shit, Mikey. I can't—" he made a fist and slammed it against his leg in frustration, "I don't know how much longer I can keep this together. I—"

Words failed him. He backed himself into the grill of his car and leaned on the edge of the hood. His eyes then watered as he looked up to the sky.

"I miss him," he whispered.

I sighed and stepped up to him. He let his head drop and shook it. I walked into his chest and embraced him. Heavy arms locked around me as he buried his face in my neck. My heart broke into a million pieces when I felt his torso shudder and a muffled cry rip from his throat. I closed my eyes and held the back of his head with one hand and rubbed his back with the other.

"I'm so sorry, Zak," I whispered.

Zak's pain poured out of him and flowed through me like a flood. I had never lost a parent, but I could only imagine that pain—not to mention fear. It doesn't matter how old you are. Death of a parent or grandparent brings you that much closer to the head of the line. The overwhelming feeling of terror that any child has felt when getting separated from a parent repeats itself. I couldn't imagine losing my own parents, and though it was inevitable, I never wanted the day to come. To see my best friend this way—to feel his tears on my skin and his body shake, I felt it all.

"Tell me what I can do," I said.

Zak shrugged his shoulders and lifted his head. His cheeks were soaked. He struggled to old in a sob, trembling as fresh tears spilled over. I didn't hesitate to reach up and wipe his face. It was in that moment that he went from the big, bad ghost hunter to a son who needed help—needed security. Aaron had been right. Zak was lost. He was a pinball on the loose, hoping to hit the right thing and receive some kind of positive outcome.  
Zak's eyes finally flashed up to me. He had never shown sadness to me before. Not this way. He had a hard time expressing his feelings. Even on the show, he kept his eyes off of the camera when something particularly devastating happened. He looked terrified, hopeless, and exhausted from all of it.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, "It's still raw, you know?"

I nodded understandingly. I didn't dare tell him it would stay raw for a long time.

"I know. It's okay. You don't have to apologize," I reassured him.

Zak nodded. I reached for his wrists, letting my hands drop to his and gave them a gentle squeeze. A small smile appeared through his sadness.

"If you need me, I can call in sick and stay another night," I offered.

His smile widened at that.

"No, don't do that. I got it," he replied.

He wouldn't meet my eyes. I leaned down and searched his face. When his eyes connected with mine, I raised an accusing eyebrow. He cracked a grin.

"Really, Mikey! It's alright. I don't want you calling in and getting in trouble because of me."

I finally smiled at that, satisfied with his response.

"I guess we're both guilty of shutting each other out. I promise I won't do that anymore," he said.

I smiled and squeezed his hands before letting go.

"Me, too," I agreed, then decided to change the subject, "Come on. Tell me about this barbecue place."

At that, his eyes lit up and he spun around to go to the door.

"Dude! It's so good!"

***

It took us longer than expected to reach Flagstaff. We honestly did not have the urge to rush back. Zak took his time driving. We talked the majority of the way nonstop, and by we, I mean him. When we stopped at our halfway point for gas, he handed me the keys. I stared at him in shock. He just smiled.

"I trust ya," was all he said.

I had a blast driving the Wraith. It was big, powerful, and a dream to drive. It was like driving a cloud down the highway. I played my music and got a kick out of the stares I received from others. Zak snoozed, not feeling any road bumps and fully trusting me with his precious car.  
We arrived in Flagstaff long after dark. Starved, we decided to grab a quick bite before heading home.

"Any requests?" I asked, flicking on the turn signal as we entered town.

Zak, who had just awoken from his nap, stretched and raised the seat back up. He reached for his glasses, which were resting in the cupholder. He placed them over his eyes and straightened himself in the seat.

"Nah," he said.

I shot him a look. This was a man who was very particular about his food. The healthier, the better.

"Any place we can't go?" I asked.

Zak smiled.

"If you take me to a McDonald's, you'll never hear the end of it," he teased.

I laughed at that. That would be a sight—a Rolls in a McDonald's parking lot.

We settled on a sub shop where we could get whatever we wanted. They piled the meat high, and it would satisfy Zak's protein addiction. Besides, they had a variety of veggies and healthy bread options. I knew I made the right choice when he wolfed his sandwich down before I did.  
When we were finished, we slowly made our way to the car with a refilled drinks. I was looking over his arm as we watched an Instagram video Aaron had posted. We giggled as he made a funny face, then almost tripped on something. As he scrolled to the next post, my phone rang in my pocket. I fished it out to read the screen.

"Did I show you what Gracie did to my Christmas tree?" Zak asked.

On screen was the name of number of my landlord. Dread filled my chest.

"No," I replied distantly, "Hang on."

Zak looked up from his phone to see mine ringing.

"Oh!" he said quietly.

I pressed the answer button and put the phone to my ear.

"Hello?" I asked.

My landlord's voice came out frantically over an overwhelmingly loud background commotion.

"Michael?" she asked, "Michael, where are you?"

I looked up at Zak. I'm sure the confusion was clearly written on my face. We stopped walking. Zak mirrored my confusion.

"I just stopped to get a sub. I'm about five minutes away. Why?" I asked.

In the background, I could hear sirens wailing. What confused me more is that I could hear them on the phone and in the distance.

"Michael, you need to get to the apartments right away," she said.

I looked up in the direction of my apartment building.

"Why? What's going—"

That's when I saw it. In the blackness arose an orange glow, awful gray smoke billowed skyward.

"I'm on my way," I said, then hung up.

A police cruiser came screaming down the street, followed by not one, but two ambulances.

"Holy shit!" Zak exclaimed.

He yanked his keys from his pocket and tapped my arm, breaking me out of my stupor.

"Let's go!"

I blindly followed, jumping into the passenger seat as Zak started the car. He ripped out of the parking lot, not caring that he was cutting people off or speeding as he slammed his foot on the gas. I held the blue leather seats for dear life. The car showed its true colors, the V12 engine snarling and the excessive amount of horsepower slamming me into my seat. I had been used to driving it gently. Zak drove like a bat of hell.  
We ripped onto a street a block from my apartments. There were people and cars everywhere. The street had been blocked off. Just a block down, the building I called home was engulfed in flames.  
Zak parked in a safe spot and turned the car off. I ripped my seatbelt off, climbed out of the car, and took off running.

"Mikey!" Zak called.

"Let's go!" was all I said.

I heard Zak tear off after me. I ran into the crowd. All of my neighbors surrounded several sets of ambulances. Some were in the backs getting oxygen and treated for any burns or other injuries. Zak caught up with me and took me by the shoulders.

"Michael!" another man's voice called.

Zak and I spun around to see my parents run up to me, my father with my mother on his arm.

"Dad?" I asked.

He walked up to me and hugged me, then looked up at Zak.

"Zak? Didn't expect to see you," he said.

Zak nodded shyly.

"He drove me back down," I explained.

My mom hugged me, then nodded to Zak.

"Zak," she said stiffly.

"Hey, Marni," he said.

My dad, who liked Zak better than my mom did, shook his hand.

"Thanks for driving her," he said.

Zak smiled.

"Yeah, Chris. No problem."

I couldn't take my eyes off of the blaze.

"What happened?" I asked.

My dad crossed his arms over his chest.

"Gas leak. The entire east side of the building is destroyed," he replied.

I felt like I couldn't breathe.

"But, my apartment was on the east side," I said quietly.

My mom bit her lip and took my hand.

"I'm going to go see if I can find some more information," my dad said.

My mom followed behind him. We watched as they slipped back through the crowd in search of someone of importance.

My landlord appeared a few moments later to check in with me, explaining that she called my parents when she couldn't get a hold of me. I checked my phone to see if I had a missed call. I didn't see one, and figured I must have been out of service when she called.  
When my parents returned, my dad's expression was solemn.

"The apartment's gone, sweetheart," he said.

I looked down, trying to process everything.

"All of my stuff?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yeah," he replied quietly, "You don't want to see your car. Fire burned right through."

I let out a shallow breath.

"I had a fireproof safe in my bedroom. Do you think it survived?" I asked.

My dad nodded.

"It'll get taken care of," he reassured me.

I nodded.

Everything. All of my things had gone up in my flames. My photography equipment, my computer, my clothes, my car. All I had to my name were in Zak's trunk.  
I had forgotten Zak was behind me when he put a hand on my shoulder. I jumped.

"Mikey," he said softly.

I looked up at him and a lump formed in my throat. My breathing caught. My kneecaps and hands trembled.

"I don't know what to say," I managed to get out.

Zak pulled me into a hug.

"I'm sorry, sweetie," he said.

I closed my eyes, tears seeping through my eyelids. I pulled away from Zak, not letting go of his arms as I looked at the fire over my shoulder.

"I guess," I began, sniffing, "Looks like this would be a good time to take you up on that offer."

I looked back up at Zak. His eyes widened in the flashing red and blue lights.

"Need a roommate?" I asked lightly, trying to somehow ease the heaviness of the situation.

He was hard to read for a moment. His eyes were glued wide open, the gears of thought turning inside his head.

"Actually, I do," he finally replied.

I felt my jaw drop and I stared at him in shock.

"Zak, I was kidding," I said quickly.

His expression was absolutely intense.

"I'm serious, Mikey. It's just me and Gray in a big empty house. It's lonely. Whether you want to stay for a little while or a long time, I don't care. It's not like I'm going to charge you rent. You're my best friend. I'd never do that. The last thing I want is for you to be homeless."

I felt tears reemerge at the mention of the word "homeless."

"We can discuss details later, but if you really want to, you can move in with me," he said.

I yanked him back into a hug.

"Really?" I asked.

I felt him nod.

"Really, really," he said.

When we parted, my dad put a hand on my back. My mom cleared her throat.

"What were your originally plans for tonight?" she asked.

I wiped my nose and sniffed.

"Zak was going to stay the night. Head out before I left for work in the morning," I said, "Now, I'm not sure."

My mom studied Zak's face for a moment.

"Zak, look at me," she ordered.

Zak immediately obeyed. She examined his eyes before making a decision.

"You're not driving back to Vegas tonight. Michael, his eyes are pink," she said.

I could just barely see his eyes for the reflection of the ambulance lights.

"Okay. You two come to the house. Zak can take your brother's old room. We'll decide what to do in the morning. Michael, do you want to ride with Zak or us?" my mom asked.

My mind went on automatic at that point. The acrid mixture of diesel fumes and burning building was hazing my mind, and I knew Zak couldn't be breathing it for much longer.

"I'll ride with Zak," I replied numbly.

My dad nodded.

"Follow us," he said to Zak.

Zak nodded. My mom then hugged me and apologized.

"We'll get it all figured out. Just come home tonight," she said.

I nodded and gave her a small squeeze before we parted, and I walked with Zak to the car.  
On the way to my parents', we were dead silent. Zak didn't even bother turning the radio on, and in the padded cell that was the Rolls, I could hear my ears ringing. I couldn't take my mind off of the fire. What if Zak had never called me?

"Hey, Zak?" I asked quietly.

"Yeah, Mikey?"

I looked over to him.

"You know if you had never called me, I might have burned to death," I said.

He sighed heavily.

"I was just thinking that," he replied, "Did I tell you what happened in that dream?"

I shook my head.

"I was encircled in fire, but when I touched it, I repelled it," he explained.

I thought for a minute, trying to interpret his dream, but I was too tired.

"You're psychic," was all I could think to say.

He laughed at that.

"Maybe," he admitted, then looked over at me, "You wanna head back with me tomorrow?"

I nodded.

"I'll call work. Tell them to take me off the schedule," I replied, then smiled, "Kind of relieving, actually."

Zak smiled.

"We can talk Ghost Adventures when you've had some rest," he said.

I felt my heart sink.

"Zak, all of my equipment is gone," I told him.

"Mikey, don't worry about that," he said as he turned into my parents' driveway.

I stared at him in disbelief. He put the car in park and shut the engine off. The interior lights came on, illuminating us. He was staring at me.

"Don't worry about a damn thing. Let me take care of it," he said.

"But, Zak—"

He leaned over the console.

"Just come home," he said sternly.

I could only nod. Zak reached his long arms around me and hugged me for the thousandth time.  
The entire weekend, though fun while it lasted, had been an emotional rollercoaster for the two of us. Eight years had simply been far too long. We needed each other at this point in time, and whether it was psychic powers, the universe doing its thing, work of the paranormal, or something else entirely, I knew he had that dream for a reason. We were meant to reunite now.

It was time to go home.


End file.
